


Lost Ones

by AkiRah



Series: Tributaries Of Strength (Font Of Strength Side Fics) [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Aftermath of Marr's Ship Exploding, Fallon Noicrothatch (OC) - Freeform, Gen, How the party split up, KotFE spoilers, Mentions of Female Sith Warrior, Vette and Quinn hug, if we're still tagging for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12543092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiRah/pseuds/AkiRah
Summary: After Fallon Noicrothatch is presumed dead her crew splits up. Pierce is reassigned, Jaesa as a powerful Sith is given some leeway in her path. But Quinn can't let go and Vette has nowhere to run.





	Lost Ones

__

> _”Turn this vessel around!”_
> 
> _“I’m doing what she told me!”_

The apartment . . . the _stronghold_ . . . was silent. There were sounds but Vette was deaf to them. She curled up on her mattress with her knees to her chin and tried to think. 

Fallon was dead. 

There was no way she’d survived that explosion. No way anyone had. 

But it didn’t _feel_ like she was dead. If Vette focused she could feel the tingling in her fingers that felt like she was playing Nexu’s Nest with Fallon. It felt far away, like the game had ended hours ago. 

> ”Vette, if you see an opening, take it.”
> 
> “And just leave you here?” _No way. No Way. No Chance._
> 
> “Someone must make it back to the Empire.” 
> 
> “But--” _No. Don’t Make Me._
> 
> “Now, Woyonuks!” 
> 
> “You’d better be right behind us.” _Please._

The worst part was that Fallon hadn’t replied. She hadn’t promised that she would be right behind them and now Vette couldn’t be furious that she’d lied. She _hadn’t_. She’d known in that moment that she was going to die. 

Vette pressed her face to her knees. What happened _now_? Personal fondness aside, Fallon had been the force between Vette and another cage, another collar. Any minute now the clawbirds would descend to pick this place dry. Fallon had no legacy. Closest she had was Jaesa. 

And Vette didn’t want to “Belong” to Jaesa. 

Or _Quinn_. 

She didn’t want to belong _to_ anyone. 

She had belonged _with_ Fallon. 

* * *

Quinn was a wreck and he knew it. He had unbuttoned but not removed his jacket, his hair was a tossed mess as he paced the carpet in _their_ bedroom. She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be dead. Not when he still felt her with every heartbeat. She had survived every challenge possible, an explosion was nothing. 

But the council--fuck them--wouldn’t look for her. They wanted her to remain missing, afterall, Fallon was the only power that challenged their own. 

The Military wouldn’t look for her. The Grand Moff wouldn’t speak to a _Captain_ and his subordiniates said that it would be a grievous waste of resources on a senseless chase. Quinn had only barely resisted the urge to take the matter into his own balled fists. 

She _wasn’t_ _dead_. She was lost. Stranded and possibly injured. He was her medic, her captain, her second in command, her husband. He had a duty to find her and a debt to repay. 

He looked at their bed. 

Then the floor. 

He licked his lips and tried to work out a next move. What _she_ would want before he charged into this fight? 

Because they would make it a fight. 

* * *

There was a knock at the door and Vette muttered a weak _“fuck off”_ at either Quinn or Pierce. She scowled when she heard the door open and lifted her head to glare at the culprit. 

Quinn was a wreck. He hadn’t shaved in days, his blue eyes were half-crazed and his hair was sticking up at odd angles. His clothes were clean though and he stood rail-straight, still very much himself. 

“Fuck off,” she snapped again. She didn’t need him blaming this on her _again_. She should have argued--but she _did_. They should have stayed--and accomplished _what_? 

She was tired. 

“Her Lordship would want me to make sure you’re looked after,” he said softly. The softness took her back. She’d never heard him speak gently to anyone. “The Empire’s no longer safe for you and I--” he cleared his throat. “While you’re welcome to come with me while I look for her, I doubt either of us would enjoy the experience.” 

The invitation to join him was almost lost but Vette caught it before it was buried under Quinn’s bullshit. 

“Yeah. I'd be loads safer with _you._ ” 

He looked offended at that, mouth and brow scrunching up like he was constipated. “You will always be safe with me.”

She rolled her eyes but her mouth twitched. It was nice to hear even if it wasn’t true. 

“Fallon _loves_ you,” he explained, using the first name to emphasize his point. “I would be remiss in my role as her partner if I didn’t protect you.” His shoulders sagged. “Moreover, you’re part of this crew. I haven’t put _Lt. Pierce_ in harm’s way.”

“You made a joke.” She almost couldn’t believe it. “Holy shit.” 

“Desperate times, don’t get used to it.” He took a step into her room. “The Lieutenant will be transferred, Jaesa is a powerful Sith. You’re the loose end.” The door closed behind him. “Her Lordship set up a discretionary fund for such situations. There can be a small ship and a limited supply of credits waiting for you in two hours.” 

Vette stared at him. “She set up a discretionary fund in case she blew up?” 

“In case you wanted to leave.” His lifted his brow. “Did she never mention this?” 

“No, no she didn’t.” 

* * *

Quinn accompanied Vette to the spaceport, armed in case anyone felt that this was the time to start picking apart the support structure. The ship was small, but the best he could manage after dipping into his and Fallon’s saving. He’d split the remainder into quarters, half for him a fourth for Vette and a fourth for Jaesa. He trusted Fallon would forgive the presumption, so long as both girls were taken care of until she was found again. 

Things would be right in time. He just had to find her. 

Vette gave the ship a smile too bright for an inanimate object. 

> _Vette just lost her mother, Malavai. Be gentle with her for my sake._

“I suppose this is goodbye,” he said. “At least until I locate Her Lordship.” 

Vette’s eyes cast downwards. She had given up hope already and it was _infuriating_. “Yeah, Quinn. This is goodbye.” She cleared her throat and presented him with a cheeky grin. “So do we hug or--”

He scowled. “Certainly not.” 

“And if I _want_ a hug?” 

He considered telling her off and rolled his eyes instead. “If you _must_.” He opened his arms to call her bluff. 

To his surprise, Vette flopped into his arms. She squeezed him tight while he froze in shock and horror. 

“You’re a terrible liar, jerk.” She told him as she pulled away, the hug having lasted a matter of seconds. “Thanks.” 

“Be safe.” The words were automatic. 

“You too.” She replied and then disappeared up the gangplank with her scant belongings. 

The last loose end, all tied up. 


End file.
